


The Adventure of Hobo and Toothpaste

by FreeArchive



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Fluff and Crack, Gang Beasts AU, Hobo x Toothpaste, M/M, No Actual Jeremwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-12-01 19:04:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20869241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreeArchive/pseuds/FreeArchive
Summary: Hobo is strong. Hobo doesn't need anyone. But when Hobo meets Toothpaste, maybe someone else needs him.{Hobo x Toothpaste}{Crack fic}Feel free to request or send prompts if you want this to continue (on mytumblr💜)





	The Adventure of Hobo and Toothpaste

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Jeremy and Ryan are not actually in this fic. They are tagged due to the fact that these are their characters I am writing about and I didn't know what to tag. Apologies if that was misleading.

It was a tough life being a hobo. Not having a place to call your own really brought it down in a man. The first year had been the worst. He'd lost everything that he owned—his job, his money, his home, his dignity. He'd been a broken man. 

But inside, he was strong. He didn't let them beat him. He embraced who he was because even though it was tough, he got through it. He was who he was and it shaped his life. 

So much, he'd forgotten his own name. 

He didn't care much about his old life beforehand. It didn't matter anymore. He was Hobo and he was proud of himself. That was all he needed. Just Hobo. 

One day, Hobo lumbered along the street, keeping very much to himself. Not that people tried to interact with him. He had a reputation around town as a crazed man, willing to fight to get what he wanted. And he was. 

Not crazed—no, don't be ridiculous. But he was willing to fight, bash it out on the streets for his possessions, his sleeping spot, his honour. Other hobos often squabbled about their small territories, places they claimed as their homes. But Hobo was the one who fought for his own. He deserved it, he believed. 

Suddenly, someone walked into him, jerking back. Hobo raised his head in annoyance. Nobody just walked into Hobo. 

"Watch out!" a gruff football coach snapped as he walked by. 

Now that annoyed Hobo. How dare he think he could tell Hobo what to do? The idea was ridiculous. Who did he think he was? 

The football coach squared up to him, puffing out his chest with the whistle jangling at his throat. Maybe he thought he was scary. Hobo didn't. And he already had enough of this. So Hobo headbutted him, knocking him out cold. 

Bystanders gaped at the act of violence on their streets but Hobo only raised his hands in victory. He had defeated the man who dared to shame him. They might gasp and be afraid, but he wasn't. 

"Hobo!" he cried. "Hobo!" 

Continuing on his way, Hobo was content. Today was one of the good days. That fight had got his blood pumping. Stupid football coach got what he deserved. 

He headed to the lighthouse out from the docks. Besides lurching around on the streets or chilling in the subway, one of his favourite places was the lighthouse. Hobo was a deep man too. He liked to sit and contemplate life. As the sun set, it was a beautiful sight. Nature… was wonderful. 

Reaching the light house with plenty of time to spare before sunset, Hobo opened the door. It was never locked. If it was locked, he'd break it. And then it wasn't locked anymore. 

Hobo climbed the stairs, listening to the clank of his own feet against the metal stairs. Rhymathic, relaxing. He was getting into the mood of the lighthouse. It just had a calming air that eased the fire in his veins. He was a man but he was a good man. 

Hobo emerged out into the cool air of the evening, adjusting his long coat. Very soon the sun would set and he would sit and watch it. He'd like that. He always did. 

But as he walked out of the glass top, he saw someone already sitting there. In  _ his _ spot. 

Hobo suppressed a gasp. Never in his life since he lost his home had he ever found someone up here. It wasn't their place to come to. It was  _ his.  _ Hobo's sunset, his lighthouse. A second not-home to him. He gritted his teeth. What sort of fool had blue hair? 

"Hey, who are you?!" he yelled, storming around to them. 

There was a soft squishing noise and then the man turned to him. He didn't have a face, just two white circles for eyes. But they were achingly sad. His blue hair wasn't hair at all, but a blue tip swirled into a point. 

"What are you?" Hobo gasped. 

The man—or was he even a man?—nodded, blue tip wobbling. And he said one word, despite not having a mouth. 

"Toothpaste." 

Hobo blinked. He did really look like toothpaste. His entire body seemed to be made of the stuff. Hobo had seen weirder things before. 

"Toothpaste? I'm Hobo." Hobo puffed out his chest. "What are you doing here?" 

Toothpaste tilted his head before looking back out at the sea. Or Hobo thought he did, he didn't have facial features. 

"Toothpaste…" he murmured. "Sad…" 

Hobo knew what it was like to be lost in the world. It was a terrible feeling. He didn't wish it on anyone. So he would help Toothpaste in whatever way he could. 

Hobo took off his coat and laid it down on the ground. He took a seat before patting the area next to him. "Come sit, Toothpaste. Hobo will talk to you." 

At first, it seemed like Toothpaste was going to refuse. His two circles stared at Hobo unblinkingly. But then he lurched to his feet, stumbling unsteadily. He collapsed into a sitting position next to him. 

"Why are you sad, Toothpaste?" Hobo asked. "You are strong! Handsome! Those are good things!" 

Toothpaste nodded. "Toothpaste doesn't know. Toothpaste doesn't know how got here." He looked at Hobo. "It's strange. One moment I was not. The next I was." 

Hobo doesn't fully understand what he means but he understood enough. Toothpaste was coming to the realisation of his existence. Not existing, and then existing. Such a strange experience that was weary on the soul. 

Hobo made it his vow to help him. Toothpaste seemed like a fine… person, one that he would like. They'd be good friends! And friends helped each other. Helped each other become better. And then more. 

"Hobo gets Toothpaste," he smiled. "Life is tough. People are cruel. But certain things are good." 

Toothpaste blinked once before nodding. "Hobo is right." 

Hobo beamed. "We will watch the sun together! It is nice at this time." 

Toothpaste nodded and Hobo felt a warm feeling in his chest. He assumed it was the sun's last blessing before it left. What else could it be? As they sat there, the sun had been sinking to the sea, casting its rays out to set the water sparkling. Toothpaste stared in wonder. 

"Beautiful…" Toothpaste murmured. 

After the sun sank, Hobo invited Toothpaste to come back with him. Toothpaste didn't have a home. Nor did Hobo. But Hobo had a place to shelter from the weather. Toothpaste didn't. And they were now in this together. What was his was his. So he would share and give it to him freely. 

"Ah, you will like!" Hobo said proudly. "It is a fine bridge, over the water! Next to a factory so it is sometimes noisy but good!" 

Warm too. His little nook was cozier than the park or the alleyways. He'd had to fight to lay his claim on it. A well sought spot from other hobos but he, Hobo, had been the one to take it. He was just a little happy about that. Now he had much respect among the community. 

Toothpaste nodded. "Good. Toothpaste likes." His eyes seemed to glaze over. "Factory…" 

Where had Toothpaste come from? Hobo didn't know what the factories made. Perhaps that was where he was from? There was no way to find out and Toothpaste didn't know either. 

It didn't matter. 

Hobo put back on his coat and led Toothpaste out of the lighthouse. It wasn't a long walk back and at night, the city was quiet. They made it back to the river without incident. And it was that Hobo slept. A few cardboard boxes set up as shelter with a drape set over it. He'd made it himself with materials he found around the place. 

"We shall sleep here," Hobo told Toothpaste. "Tomorrow, a new day. We shall live and be happy." 

"Toothpaste would like that." 

Together, they settled down for the night. Hobo washed his face in the river, liking how the water was cold. So refreshing! Toothpaste didn't, not seeming to like the water that much. He claimed it made him feel like he was melting away. So Hobo let him be. 

His place had been set up for one person but they both fit. Hobo settled down for the night, draping his coat like a blanket over the both of them. 

And then Toothpaste did what might have been a smile. He murmured "thank you, Hobo," before closing his little circle eyes and going to sleep. 

Hobo had forgotten what love was. Life on the streets was tough. 

But Toothpaste was warm, cuddling him with his goopy body. So for the first time in years, Hobo didn't sleep alone. 

**Author's Note:**

> Umm... so I want to write more but I don't have any ideas, nor do I know the lore of AH Gang Beasts (imma look into it soon, dw). So please, feel free to leave a comment or message me at my [Tumblr](https://the-demons-behind-your-smile.tumblr.com/).
> 
> if you have any input! Thank you~ 🙃


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